


My Boy

by Strange_johnlock



Series: My boy [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom John Watson, Comfort, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Husbands, John is a Saint, John is an amazing husband, M/M, Oral Sex, Rugby Captain John, Teenlock, Top Sherlock, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_johnlock/pseuds/Strange_johnlock
Summary: „Tell me.“ John tried to sound harsh, but it came out almost desperate. „Tell me, why I can't forget you, smart arse.“John and Sherlock are married.Teenage John and Sherlock are in a toxic relationship.this is basically porn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You shoul read "Good Boy" first to understand what's going on between our boys.
> 
> English is my second language, so please bear with me.
> 
> Feedback is very much appreciated :D

 

John knew the case had been hard on Sherlock. In all his brillance and sharpness the world's only consulting detective still thought showing his feelings was a weakness to be suppressed in front of the Yarders.  
They had found a dead child, saved his younger sister and as soon as they had passed the threshold of 221B, Sherlock had collapsed onto the sofa.  
John had made tea and ordered take away, both still untouched on the coffee table. Sherlock always ate after cases, especially after three days of completely ignoring his transport. Worrying, John knelt down in front of the sofa, combing his fingers through his husband's hair.  
„You should eat, love. And than sleep.“  
Sherlock kept staring at the ceiling, but John felt him leaning into the touch.  
„I should have been faster. I should have been able to save him.“  
John closed his eyes for a second, unable to imagine how horrible this was for the parents, unable to imagine their pain.  
„Only Peter Smith is responsible for Ethan's death, not you. Never you, love. You did your best and you saved little Hannah. There's a child still alive because of you.“  
Pressing a kiss to Sherlock's temple the detective's mouth twitched, a little movement telling John that his attempts to comfort him were unhelpful, but appreciated.

 

Two hours later, Sherlock had eaten and moved to their bedroom, but John could still hear him pacing around. He was still in case mode, even if the kidnapper was saved and their statements given. Usually, John spent the time after a case writing his blog as Sherlock slept for the first time in days, but he had decided to not write about Ethan's death out of respect for the griefing family. So, for a while John tried to read, before he started cleaning the kitchen. Cleansiness was his way to cope, something he could rely on.  
He found the package while returning the laptop to the desk. It had arrived during the second day of their case and had been forgotten as they chased a kidnapper. John's realtionship with his mother had been damaged because of his desicion to join the army and her reaction to Harry's homosexuality and he had hesitated to contact her. She would have refused an answer, if she had known why excactly he needed his rugby kit.  
Now, as he held the fabric between his fingers, John thought wheter this was a good idea right now. Sherlock was in a horrible emotional state and probably would want to be alone. On the other hand, sex was and had in many situations before, been a way to calm Sherlock down and acting out his favourite fantasy would give the detective a chance to not think for a while.  
John went to the bathroom to change and prepare himself. He took a shower, shaved and then opened the door to the bedroom.  
„I didn't know people like you were allowed at parties,“ John snarled, leaning against the door frame. God, him wearing his rugby kit at a party didn't even make sense. He wasn't good at playing pretend. If he had met Sherlock in his teenage years, he would have worshipped the ground he walked on, not … raped the other boy. Sure, he enjoyed the rough sex and Sherlock panting underneath him as John called him names, but he had been hesitant at first. The blowjob in the bathroom a few months ago had been their first successful try, because John had a hard time treating Sherlock that bad. Seeing Sherlock enjoying it so much had finally convinced him and he coming up with scenarios for their next encounter was a lot of fun.  
Sherlock, sitting on the side of the bed, feet on the floor, looked up to him and after a short moment of confusion he smiled, before John could see him falling into his role.

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock usually avoided parties, but this was Molly's birthday and Sherlock had promised her to be there if she assisted him with his next experiment or two. After almost an hour of standing in the corner of the living room, watching his classmates drink and laugh, he had sought refuge in Molly's bedroom. He just wanted his peace and quiet and there were to many idiots around the house.  
He had picked the lock. Molly hadn't wanted people in her room.  
For a while, Sherlock just sat there, planning his next experiment in his head. The door opend.  
„I didn't know people like you were allowed at parties.“  
John looked good.  
_Came here right after their game. Showered at the gym. Wears his kit, because being the captain of a sports team is what gets John the ladies._  
_They hadn't talked to each other for weeks now, not after their encounter in the bathroom and John had started dating a girl._  
_Why is he coming to see me, then? He and Sarah had sex yesterday and probably will tonight. Her parents are on a buisness trip and she has the house all to herself._  
„Molly is a friend,“ Sherlock just said, looking at his hands. Finally, after so many glances at John, after sleepless night and numerous wanks over their shared moments of pleasure, he had believed he was finally over John. Now only being in the same room with him made Sherlock hard.  
The sound of the door closing, the key turning in the lock. John got closer to the bed and, to Sherlock's surprise sank down to his knees, hands on the younger boys knees.  
„Tell me.“ John tried to sound harsh, but it came out almost desperate. „Tell me, why I can't forget you, smart arse.“  
There was no time for an answer, because John leaned up to him, pulling Sherlock down, until their lips met and the kiss was soft, questioning. John hadn't kissed him before, their encounters were about John's pleasure, not affection.  
They kissed for a while. John had never taken his time before, sex between them was always fast, between class. There was no need to hurry now.  
„I need... I need to get you out of my head. I can't.... this isn't happening again.“ John got off the floor. Sherlock almost stopped him, as John took off his trousers and pants in one motion, because the way the shorts made the blonde's arse and thighs look was increadible. Naked John was better and Sherlock licked his lips at the sight of his erect cock.  
_I had that inside my mouth and arse._  
He didn't want this to be the last time. He didn't want John to go back to Sarah after this, but if that was what was going to happen, Sherlock wanted to enjoy every moment of it.  
Staring at John, Sherlock opened the zip of his trousers, shoving them and his pants down. He only got them mid-thigh, before John was manhandling to the middle of the bed, so Sherlock's head rested on the pillow.  
_Molly's pillow. I'm going to have sex with John Watson in my only friend's bed._  
John moved to lay on top of him and their cocks were touching and god... John felt hot and wet and his hips moved shallowly against Sherlock's groin.  
John's eyes were dark with arousal and this was he first time Sherlock was able to look at them, before they fell shut, as John leaned down to kiss Sherlock's neck and jaw and Sherlock wanted to come like this. Their pleasure combined.  
„Oh, fuck. Can't pretend you're a girl in that postion, but this... oh. This feels... hmm,“ John mumbled, mouth pressed against Sherlock's collar bone through the fabric of the purple shirt.  
„Wanted to shove my cock in that gorgeous mouth from day one. And god, your arse...“ As if to emphasize, John's hands moved between Sherlock's body and the matress to grab at pale flesh, pushing their groins closer.  
„...never thought I would like another cock against mine. God, smart arse. That's... yeah, like that. Let me...“  
John suddenly moved away and Sherlock winced at the loss of the friction and body warmth. This couldn't be over, not when John was tender for once, when this was finally about the both of them, not only John.  
„Sit up, I need... Yes, against the headboard. Like this.“  
The hard press of lips against lips and cheeks, as they moved on the bed, John came to sit on Sherlock's lap, the younger boys cock pressed against the cleft of his arse.  
_No. This can't be._

 

* * *

 

 

John watched Sherlock through half closed eyes. He knew Sherlock was totally lost in his fantasy and still totally focused on him. He knew what Sherlock needed, even if it probably wasn't what the teenage version of John in Sherlock's head would do. They didn't usually kiss during their special little encounters. Sherlock needed tenderness now.  
Rubbing his cock against Sherlock's belly, John continued pressing kisses to Sherlock's face, moving towards his ear.  
„Already prepared myself, love,“ he whispered, interrupting the fantasy for a second, „Are you okay?“  
Sherlock looked confused, but nodded and John leaned down to kiss him again, as he moved his hands to press to fingers into himself again. He had prepared under the shower and felt loose enough. John didn't bottom really often, for no particular reason they ended up with John's cock in Sherlock's arse most of the times. That didn't mean John didn't like getting fucked, on the contrary. Giving his body and all of his trust to Sherlock felt amazing, especially because his husband was very skilled when it came to finding and stimulating John's prostate.  
Voice hoarse with anticipation, John whispered into Sherlock's ear.  
„It's your lucky day, smart arse. I'm way to drunk to think straight.“  
Sherlock's eyes were dark with lust and John wished he could understand why this particular fantasy gave so much to the man he loved, but as long as he got to see this spark in Sherlock's eyes, so lost in his own pleausre, John would play his part. He would be a bully as often as his husband needed him to be.  
Removing his fingers, John pressed the head of Sherlock's cock to his entrance, slowly sinking down.

 

* * *

 

 

John was hot and tight and wet. Sherlock threw his head back moaning, as John lifted his hips to let them crash down onto Sherlock's cock again. The rhythm was brutal, fast and they both panted into each other's mouths.  
„Oh, fuck. Oh, yes … that... understand why you are always begging to be... oh.. fuck... yes.“  
Sherlock allowed himself to moan, because this time they could be as loud as they wanted to be. The other guests and the music downstairs were loud enough.  
_John Watson is riding my cock. In Molly's bed._  
„Yes, let me hear you, smart arse. This... this is amazing.“  
Feeling brave, Sherlock moved his hands to John's arse, as he grabbed the firm globes, squeasing them hard. He licked the sweat from John's chin, savoring the taste, as tight heat consumed him.  
_John has not thought about getting fucked before. This was a spontaneous desicion and he's surpised how much he likes it._  
_I won't last long, not like this._  
„Fuck. Wank me. Close... wank me, I need...“  
Sherlock cursed, closing a fist around John's cock, stroking the hot, red flesh. He remembered every nuance of it's taste.  
„I.. I will orgasm, John. Suck you off after.“  
John moaned, throwing his head back as he fell into an even faster rhythm, Sherlock's hands now on his hips, guiding him down.  
_Close. So close._  
„Oh, yes. Let go, my boy. Show me how you come,“ John whispered, not slowing down for a second, forehead pressed against Sherlock's.  
And Sherlock did. How could he not.  
Orgasm hit him hard, spreading through his bow, turning off his brain for a moment.  
_John. My semen is inside John Watson._  
Sherlock's hands moved over John's back in an attempt to come back to earth.  
„John... Can...“  
John understood. He moved his hips upwards, carefully letting Sherlock slip out, both off them wincing. Struggeling to move with his trousers still haning around his knees, Sherlock followed John as he lay down on the bed, cock stiff against his belly, red with arousal and looking do delicious.  
Sherlock swallowed down as much of it as he could, the bitter tast of John's prejaculate filling his mouth and god, he needed more. He wanted to take it slow, succle at the tip for a while, kiss down the shaft and along the veins, but he knew John needed to come soon.  
„Sher.... please, smart arsee, suck me. I....“  
Sherlock did. Bobbing his head, as he pressed a finger back into John, Sherlock forced his own eyes open to watch.  
Sweat made John's hair cling to his forehead and his beautiful mouth had fallen open. Noone would ever know what curses plain, friendly John Watson was capeable of.  
God, Sherlock needed... he needed John to... And John did. He came down Sherlock's throat with a cry.

 

* * *

 

 

„Feeling better?“ John stopped from stroking Sherlock's chest to look up at his husband. For a while, they had just lain there, catching their breaths.  
„Yes,“ Sherlock simply said, but John could see the smile form around his lips, „Thank you.“  
smiling himself, John kissed a pahle collar bone. „Nothing to thank me for, love. I know you tend to overthink and I know what helps you unwind and by god, it's my favourite thing to do. God, they way you look, the way you let go...“  
John knew he was getting soppy again, but he just couldn't stop. „I still can't believe, you're sharing this part of you with me, that you trust me enought to … let go. I'm the one who should be thankful. And I am. For every moment with you I'm so bloody thankful.“  
Sherlock's arms tightend around him. How John loved him.  
„Could you... could you call me a smart arse during a case one day? An unimportant one? I like the thought of getting aroused and having to wait until we're home until you can fuck me.“


	2. Note

Would you want me to continue the series? Bc I'm having a lot of fun with this, but a triology is also a good point to stop.....

 

Please tell me what you think :D And also thank you for all the kudos and comments. I would have never expected for people to be interested in my fics at all. Especially not in my second language.

Thank you so much :D

Vany aka. Strange_Johnlock


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